


You Seek A Key You Cannot Forge

by bluejaytales



Category: Smallville, Supergirl (TV 2015), not season 11 compliant - Fandom
Genre: Crisis on Infinite Earths Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe), Episode: s01e09 Crisis on Infinite Earths: Part Two, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21790309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejaytales/pseuds/bluejaytales
Summary: After running into the most boring Superman yet, Luthor decides to double back to kill him after all. But, it'd be more fun to enlist local help.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Lex Luthor, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Lex Luthor & Lex Luthor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	You Seek A Key You Cannot Forge

"Why would you become President?" A voice startled Lex out of his reverie. "Isn't that a little _small_?"

There's a purple shape vanishing in the middle of the Oval Office, a funhouse mirror staring back at him. There was a book in the man’s arms-- some oversized Halloween prop. This was going to be _interesting_.

The laptop shut against prying eyes, Lex stood. "I don't know how you got in here, but you need to--"

The man held the book up and thumped it on the desk. "To get out of here, yes yes. But, I know you. I know your curiosity means I'm going to stay and you aren't going to call in the President's men." He sat against the desk, staring at the bland childhood photos. A sneer at the picture of Lionel, he flicked it off the table. " _Now_ , back to becoming President. Why? It's so mundane."

Lex considered waiting silently until security arrived, but the man tossed himself onto the couch. The old grandfather clock ticked. No security yet. Okay. He was on his own. On with the show. A deep breath, arms crossed as Lex broke the near-silence. "I'm leading the free world into a new era of human improvement."

“That response took a while, are you sure? Why not work behind the scenes? You can get more than just four years that way. Not to mention, you're distracted from taking care of the big blue threat that’s destroying all of humanity."

He was right. There was always _something_ that kept him from killing Superman. They would both come close but not quite close enough to stick. Lex’s gloved hand went to pinch his brow. This strange man, him and yet not. A long stare at South Lawn, his bored gaze turned back to, well, himself. Somehow.

_I drive you, I give your life meaning, you weak pathetic little man!_

"Superman retired years ago. I don’t see why he’s my problem anymore.” The lie was bitter on his tongue. Funny, he _could have sworn_ it was the truth it up until this very second.

“Of course he’s your problem, he’s always been our problem. Our enemy, in every world and every timeline.” The man-- no, he wasn’t going to call him by name-- looked like he was about to go on a rant but held himself back. Ah, Lex knew that feeling well. Good restraint.

His jaw twitched as he processed. “Every _world_? That explains the awful goatee. Very Star Trek.”

“And the pure-as-the-driven-snow white suit is some attempt at symbolism, I’m sure. It must look godawful in photographs. But the matter here is Superman. You want him gone, and I know you do, because I want him gone. I need your help to do that. Well, your help and the book.”

“And this book is supposed to keep me interested enough to help you, no questions asked?” Lex frowned, fingers traced the strange material on the cover. Not quite leather, not quite pleather. Something invisible _emanated_ from the book, like an electric shock. He’d felt that before. That numbingly painful feeling as his fingers kept playing the same song over and over. It was something more than physical sensation, something caught under the skin. Loathe to admit it, he was intrigued.

“Of course. You’re a Luthor, can’t resist a mystery. I suppose there’s entertainment value as well. I want to see myself to succeed in every universe.” A knife’s smile. It reminded him of the pictures of Lionel that was cracked on the floor.. “I know about the sad, slow limp down memory lane. You would certainly make some better choices if you could benefit from past experience, don’t you? After all, it’s hard to research Kryptonite without knowing about the hundreds of tests you already performed. I can use this to get your memories back.”

Oh, this wasn’t going anywhere fun was it? Lex thinned his lips and took only _half_ of the bait. “What choices?” Talking to a version of him that he knew nothing about but that seemed to know a lot about him was, quite frankly, exhausting.

“Killing Superman before he even became Superman.” Luthor, he’d decided to call him. 

_Luthor_. Superman’s voice rang in his head. The last rooftop confrontation. Lex had refused to believe Superman saying he was giving up the limelight. He couldn't possibly be content to just give up all the praise and worship. There was no _way_ he knew who Superman was! He'd met him shortly after he was introduced to the world via rooftop interview at the Daily Planet.

“No one told you you knew Superman, did they?”

Lex blinked, trying his best to look nonplussed. “Before he became Superman... He _is_ behind my missing time."

Luthor winked at him. "You got it in one. Superman took your memories from you." A nod towards the book, he stood and opened it. Lex's stomach dropped but he was frozen in place. "I can give them back."

But, of course, his alternate knew him too well. Luthor strolled back over to get the book and opened it. Time seemed to stand still. The book glowed, that static silently crackling in the air.

It wasn’t as if he suddenly remembered. It was more complex. A dawning, clouds breaking, revealing just a few scenes. It was as if he’d always had this memory. His head had slammed the steering wheel. Lungs ached with dirty water. Lips found breath. It was something neither of them (who?) should have survived.

“I crashed my car into Superman.” He put his hand to his eyes, trying to remember more. A red blanket thrown around shoulders. The back of a father and son as they walked towards a pickup truck. That fuzzy, _itchy_ feeling in his mind worsened. He dropped onto the back of the couch, his eyes shut tight against the confusion.

* * *

A return from darkness he hadn’t even realized he’d sunken into. With a groan, he sat up from the couch. How long had he been out? Luthor was staring over him.

Another flash-- Lionel standing over him. “ _Again." "But sir, the equipment--" "Do it._ **_Again_ **.”

“If you try to remember past the memory I gave you, the magic will just drive you mad.” Was that concern mixed in with the power trip in Lion-- Luthor’s voice?

Lex touched his mouth, working his jaw against the sudden taste of rubber. Massaging his neck as he stood, he winced at a phantom ache. The memory. Luthor didn't know what Lex recalled. If he had, he'd have said something more specific as a taunt. He knew himself too well. Maybe Lex did have an upper hand here even with the magic.

Something in his ear like earwax. The taste of rubber was gone, replaced with the taste of blood. Not earwax. Bleeding from the nose and ears were signs of a-- he’d learned this-- signs of _something._ A sign of something Luthor had _done_ to him. Played with Lex's very reality for kicks. “Fuck you.” Lex spat as the room spun. Biting back a groan he stood, still rubbing at his neck. Fine! Fine, he’d fall for this damn carrot and stick. Blood trickled down his neck and he snarled as he scrubbed at it with a handkerchief. Luthor was having the time of his life as he propped his feet up on the coffee table. What was his endgame here? “If your book is so powerful, why do you need me?”

Luthor pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. “I left him alone, his life was just so mundane and pathetic. But I think you could benefit from a trip back to the old hometown.”

The worst part was that Lex _was_ curious. He was interested, he needed more information. And that memory, the answers to his questions. Just out of reach.

"Alright, let's get this little murder mystery on the road." The book was open again. There was a portal again. The purple light danced in Luthor’s eyes again. How had the trespasser stayed so calm and collected the whole interaction?

In contrast, Lex was shakier than he’d been in weeks. Luthor swept a hand to the portal with a small bow. The theatricality was a multiversal constant apparently. Lex had to huff a laugh at that. “We’re going to kill Superman?”

“So long as you don’t choke when he starts trying to manipulate us.” Luthor held a silver pistol out to him. It was Lex's own. No doubt stolen from his holster as he'd slept. He opened his suit jacket, glaring at Luthor as he switched the magazine out for one with green bullets. Luthor had said he'd experimented with kryptonite somewhere in his missing decade. Had that been how he'd lost his hand? He stared at the muddy sight of blood on black fingers. A stumbling trip down memory lane indeed. Sweeter still was the idea of curiosity fulfilled. The book, the magic, the real reason that Luthor was here.

“We’re going to kill Superman.” A statement this time, not a question. With steeled shoulders and a deep breath, Lex stepped through the portal.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on kalcl.tumblr.com!


End file.
